


Jersey 4

by XaverianQueenChrissy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5517362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaverianQueenChrissy/pseuds/XaverianQueenChrissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it was just a jersey</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jersey 4

**Author's Note:**

> WHO'S READY FOR MORE TSUKISHIMA ANGST ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Tsukishima Kei, 3rd year at Amemaru Middle School, was in a state of internal conflict. His new jersey lay spread neatly out in front of him on his dinosaur printed sheets that once belonged to his brother. His headphones blasted his usual playlist full of angsty teenage music, but he was barely paying attention to the beat, far too engrossed in the offending jersey in front of him.

Earlier that day, the youngest Tsukishima waited patiently next to a much more anxious Yamaguchi as the coach assigned jerseys to all the first string players.

“I wonder who’s going to get the number one?” he mumbled in Tsukishima’s ear.

“Probably Mizoutani,” he whispered back, assuming the team Captain would be given the highest ranking number.

He was correct, as the jerseys were passed out, he could hear their captain and vice bubbling over their number one and two jerseys.

“Tsukki, I got number five!” Yamaguchi grinned, “I’m up from last year!”

Tsukishima’s grip on the shrink wrapped package intensified. He didn’t need to look at the jersey to know what number he got.

“Tsukki?”

He didn’t reply, he simply jammed the package into his bag. Practice was dismissed soon after, but Yamaguchi noticed the tension in his best friend’s expression, and no words needed to be spoken to explain the situation.

Tsukishima quickly changed into his regular clothes, stiffly leaving the changing room and made a beeline for the coach’s office.

“Oh, Tsukishima-kun, can I help you?”

Hazel eyes focused on the floor, the fourteen year old’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“Can I switch numbers with Yamaguchi?” he asked.

“Why do you want to switch?” the coach asked.

“This number-”

“-was your brother’s, yes, that’s why I assigned it to you.”

“But...I…” Kei sighed miserably.

“You’re a valuable member to our team, Tsukishima-kun, your name says it all. I think having the ace jersey is fitting for you.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to win this fight, Tsukishima rubbed his temples in frustration.

“I know how you feel,” the coach interrupted his groveling, causing the blonde to perk up in surprise.

“You do?”

“Of course!” he laughed, “I had an older brother who was way better at me when it came to volleyball. I was under so much pressure to live up to my family’s name.”

Kei’s face slumped again. His coach really had no idea the dynamics between himself and Akiteru.

“Well, thanks for your help,” he grumbled sarcastically.

“Good job today, Tsukishima-kun!” the coach chirped, thinking to himself that the two brothers were polar opposites.

Which brings us back to the current situation, with Kei’s self loathing creating a suffocating atmosphere in the small bedroom. It wasn’t fair; the coach had no idea how badly he didn’t want to be reminded of his brother. Hot tears ran down his cheeks, dripping onto the offending material, collecting on the large white number four in the middle. How was he supposed to wear this for an entire year without looking in the mirror and seeing his brother, captain and ace; his brother, the failure.

“How pathetic,” he choked out.

 

“Akiteru, can you do me a favour and let your brother know dinner is ready?”

Akiteru winced at his mother’s request. Just ten minutes earlier, his little brother had stormed in the house without a greeting, stomping up the stairs before slamming his bedroom door shut. Their current relationship was still tense, even on one of Kei’s good days. Though he feared his brother’s reaction to him intruding on his space, he complied to his mother’s wishes and made his way up the stairs.

“Kei, come on out, dinner’s ready,” he murmured, knocking at the door. No response. Akiteru rolled his eyes, he was probably hooked up to those damn headphones again.

“Kei I’m coming in, you’re better be decent,” he added as an after thought-his brother WAS a 14 year old boy, after all-before sliding the door open.

As he predicted, his brother was completely absorbed in his music, but what Akiteru didn’t expect was to find the normally stoic teenager clinging to a volleyball jersey, weeping openly into the light fabric.

“Kei…” he murmured softly, realizing there was no way of getting his brother’s attention without getting socked in the face by whatever object Kei could get his weepy hands on first.

It was then that he saw the number on the jersey, becoming more and more soiled with his baby brother’s tears. Feeling a tight squeezing in his chest, Akiteru quickly but quietly slid the door shut before collapsing to his knees and sobbing bitterly into his hands. That was his jersey in Kei’s trembling hands.

"I'm sorry, Kei."

It was supposed to be just a jersey; but to them, it was so much more.


End file.
